Inside the Career Camp
by tayziconable
Summary: The 74th Hunger Games as told by the Careers; were they ever really alive, or just living for the Capitol's amusement all along? Hints of Glato, but full-fledged Clato, as far as pairing goes.
1. Chapter 1

**So, here comes the obvious disclaimer about how I still (unfortunately) don't own THG xD This fanfic is about the 74th Hunger Games as told by the Careers; it is mainly true to the book, but it delves into the movie a tad bit, and there is slight AU in some cases.. most of this is open to interpretation, however... My sister and I (you can subscribe to her or check out her other stories on her page, pkat369) wrote this together. I wrote Cato and Glimmer, she wrote Clove and Marvel... The second chapter is almost done being typed up and edited, and chapter 3 is on its way! Enjoy!**

Inside the Career Camp

Ch.1- Post-bloodbath  
Cato

The dirt-packed ground is littered with corpses, swimming in mahogany pools of polluted blood. Chest heaving, blood battering the insides of my skull, I glance around in the scalding sunlight for the survivors, either my new allies or adversaries; however, only my fellow Careers remain at the murder scene. We'll have to move fast. In instants the cannons will fire, and hovercrafts will be upon us. That is, if the sweltering sun and stench of festering flesh don't draw flies first.  
I lock gazes with my district partner, Clove; while I'd only known her briefly during Capitol week, we were as close of allies as any other district partners, and I couldn't help instilling a sense of trust in her. When her dark hazel eyes lock with my own blue eyes, she gives a miniscule smile of acknowledgement. She and the girl from District 1, who we were merely acquainted with, had teamed up in slaughtering the girl from District 7; Glimmer had constrained her by the hair while Clove had leapt on her and slit open her throat. The girl from District 1 gave me an omniscient smirk and a flirty wave, managing to look gorgeous even with her arms slathered in blood.  
Her partner whose name I had caught was still hacking away at some poor body beneath him.  
"Uhm... I'm pretty sure he's dead, Marvel," I voice cautiously as his head whips upwards. "The cannon just blew..."  
"Huh? Oh... right... pshhh," he chuckled, batting at the air with his hand and cleaning his knife with his shirt. I raise a skeptical eyebrow, but can't help being a little amused.  
Everyone starts gathering together, but one lags behind; it's District 4. And suddenly, from the way she stares at me with a relentless, steely glare, I can tell she knows. Her expression is accusing, but it seems more spiteful than vengeful. She must have seen me kill her district partner.  
It's irregular for any Careers to die in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia, but all too common for the Careers to form an alliance afterwards. So I knew I had to do it. While the tributes from Four generally come out like us, this boy was no more than a snivelling twelve-year-old weakling, and had he survived, he would've only dragged us down from being the indomitable team we are. The girl must have known this, so why was she peering at me like this? While I know the girl, smaller in stature, posed no threat to me at the moment, I couldn't shake the unnerving way she stared, as if she was prodding a meal with her fork and trying to decide which part to devour first. I shuddered, but feigned a scoff so as to appear stolidly fearless.  
"Come on," I declared; I was not an implied leader, yet they obeyed willingly. "Let's set up near the lake. It's our territory now." A sly grin stretches across my features.  
Marvel gave a resolving whoop of assent and pumped his fist in the air, while the girls from our districts cackled, and District 4 couldn't help beaming.  
"We should carry over the supplies," the girl from One stated, flipping her lustrous blonde hair over her shoulder and streaking it with the scarlet blood plastered all over her nimble hands.  
"Yeah, you're right.. um..."  
"It's Glimmer," she replied, cutting off my dumbfounded state. She rolled her eyes, but gave me a sultry gaze that left me more befuddled than I was in my search for her name.  
"Well, let's get a move on, then," Clove interjected, sounding peeved as her small hand firmly planted on my shoulder and gave a light shove. I regained my senses and let her guide me back to the Cornucopia.

Clove

I gently push Cato forward, a little afraid that he will turn back and lash out on me, but he does no such thing. He simply ambles toward the lake, completely care-free. What a little piss-off.  
Marvel and Cato hoist the heavier loads upon their shoulders, leaving the lighter ones for Glimmer, Averi, and I. Averi grabs two backpacks, slings them over her shoulders, then lifts a crate, and follows the guys. Wow, she has muscle for someone from District 4. Glimmer on the other hand, retrieves a sack of apples and a silver bow with a quiver of arrows. Pathetic.  
I try to make myself look stronger than I am by taking a sleek black tote that has a strap long enough to drape across my chest. I certainly didn't pass up the belt full of knives. And to top it off I raise two medium-sized crates off the ground and head towards the lake. When I pass Glimmer, it takes everything in me not to laugh. She stares at me, mouth gaping open. I guess she didn't expect my strength. Then again, neither did I, and even though the muscles in my arms are screaming right now, I keep a mundane expression and reach the lake. But not before I humiliate her a bit by saying,"You might want to close your mouth, you'll catch flies." I state pleasurably. And by examining the look on her still dolled-up face, I knew my next statement would piss her off, but I couldn't resist. "Oh, I almost forgot. It's Sparkle, right?"  
"Glimmer. My name is Glimmer. Not Sparkle." she says harshly. I hear a quiet snicker from Averi and I see a grin on Marvel's face. Then I am utterly to see no one other than Cato with a massive smile across his face, chuckling loudly.  
"Come on, girls. Let's get along now," he tells us. Glimmer just huffs in rage and saunters off toward the tents. I smirk and hop up onto a large stack of crates and further examine my knives. I look up to meet Cato's gaze and I happily return his grin. Call me crazy, but I trust this guy.

Marvel

As soon as we settle in, Cato starts commanding us around. Ugh, who ever declared he was the leader of this pack? "Alright. Glimmer and District 4-"  
"My name's Averi."  
"Okay, Glimmer and Averi, take count of the supply and ration a meal for tonight. Something hardy, we're hunting-"  
"But we already killed off so many-" Glimmer starts.  
"We're hunting tonight, end of story. Marvel, Check out those grasses over there, don't go deep since you're alone, but make sure we don't have any tributes hiding in there. Clove and I will survey the forest boundary, okay?"  
We all nod, and get to work. I grab two spears and head off for the grasses. I wonder if someone is hiding in there.  
Once there, I use one of my spears to move some grass out of the way, but it's so tall and thick that it isn't much use. After about forty-five minutes of pacing along the boundary, I become really, really bored. But as always I will find a solution to that. So I start humming a song from back in 1. Then I begin to sing quietly, but passionately.  
"Don't hate me cause I'm beautiful, don't hate me cause I'm beautiful. Dont hats me cause I'm, I'm," I seem to have forgotten the next verse, so I improvise,"Don't hate me cause I'm marvelous! Don't hate me cause I'm marvelous. Ha! Get it? Because I'm Marvel? Ha!" I laugh as I entertain myself. However, I get caught off guard by a rustling in the grass. I transfer into stealth mode, and cautiously wait for the tribute to reveal itself, and he does. "Well polish my butt, and call me a diamond!" I announce much too loudly. I turn to see Glimmer and Averi staring at me in confusion. "It's District 12!" I turn back to him, he is unarmed, clearly intimidated by me, but also humored by my comment. "Where's your girlfriend, bud?"  
"I, I don't know, but I could, I can find her for you, with you. If you all would consider an alliance, with me."  
"You'd rat her out, just like that?" I shake my head in disbelief.  
"If it means that I can become an ally of the Careers, than yes. I would."  
"Man, that's cold-blooded. You're in."  
"Wait, already? I thought you had to approve it with your leader or something..."  
"Leader? We don't have a 'leader'."  
"I'm sorry, I've just been watching you all, and it seemed like Cato was-"  
"Cato is not our leader. We dont have to do everything at his command,"  
"Aren't you following his commands right now, though?"  
I glare at him, and say,"We dont have to what he says." I turn and see Cato and Clove entering the clearing, and a sinister grin crawls onto my face. "Starting now."

Glimmer

Well, if today hasn't been enthralling, I don't know what the term means anymore. I feel as though perhaps my mind should be enraptured in a more befuddled state, what with the astonishing appearance of District 12, the ardent and almost offensive way Cato dished out orders, the shocking notion that I find his dominance almost appealing, and even the adrenaline from all of my fresh kills still wracking the recesses of my mind. However, as shallow as it comes across, I'm still smoldering from Clove's snide comment. Who does that waste-of-space runt think she is? Fuming, I toss another haughty glare in her direction, wearing a livid countenance, and brush past Averi, the tribute from Four, as I stomp back towards the Cornucopia while the tributes from Two approach Marvel.  
I peer into the gaping cavern of the metal horn, giving an inconspicuous and cursory scan over its innards to check for any supplies we may have overlooked. I'm about to swivel around when a negligible flicker of movement catches my gaze. It could've been anything, a shaky breath, a strand of hair dangling out of place, but it's enough. Gnashing my teeth with anticipation, I lunge into the dim corridor and clamber adroitly into its depths, emerging instants later and dragging whatever tribute had been lurking within by his dark hair.  
An insidious smirk lightening my face, I lean down startlingly close to the tremoring boy, sneering. "And who are you?" I purr craftily, running my fingers down his cheek in a corrupted caress and drawing a knife from my belt leisurely; I haven't yet had an opportunity to cleanse my hands, so when I rake my spindly fingertips down his hollowed cheeks, a crusty crimson trail of dried blood is left in their wake. The boy shudders responsively.  
"Th-three," the younger male stammered, quivering as he clutched the tiny backpack he'd been harboring against his starved stomach. "Technology and factories-"  
A sharp slap to the face cuts him off as he doubles over, gripping at his face; the snapping sound of the impact resonates through the stagnant air around us, and hangs materially in the atmosphere even after the deed is carried out. He peeks up from behind his shivering hands, a searing scarlet patch of skin blossoming across the side of his face where the bruise would form, only to meet my unyielding, fecetious glare.  
"I know that, dumbass," I snap, rolling my eyes. "Whatever. Enough with idle chitchat," I shrug, lifting the blade ardently with a flash of glistening silver, and whipping my arm back quickly to deliver the fatal slash; however, he halts me.  
"Wait!" he shrieks piercingly. "Wait, please!" I raise a blonde eyebrow skeptically, but before I can retort he speaks up again. "I can help you," he murmurs breathlessly, frantic and panicking.  
"How?" I demand sturdily.  
"The mines around the plates... when we rose into the arena... I'm not strong enough to dig them up on my own, but if any of you could help me, I can activate them," he blurts out in a throaty voice, dwindling his thumbs. "I'm the only one in here who knows how. I figured you guys would have a use for them."  
While I knew just what it would earn me if the stuttering boy was incompetent of coming through with his promise, the idea was too tempting, too enticing to resist. Making a split decision, I outstretch my hand to assist him in regaining his feet, beaming insidiously.  
"Welcome to the Careers," I offer, putting on a saccharine facade. The kid looks flimsy and shell-shocked, gasping in anxiety but nearly blissful in relief. I flatten my hand on the back of his shoulder to soothe him, which works; for such an aspiring and brilliant mind, he seems far too ingenuous and naive, if he is foolish enough to trust us. While I feel somewhat entitled to confide in Marvel, even I don't fully trust the others, and while we all make pleasant enough company outwardly and band together with a sense of devotion, playing it up as flamboyantly as possible, it's clearly a two-way street. He must at least assume we value him merely as a possession, right? Evidently not.  
I scrutinize the landscape tentatively before stepping around the Cornucopia, flaunting my new prize. He won't become an ally by any means, and will be both neglected and disposed of when the occasion arises, but I can't help but feel clever for the moment. I ponder on all of our opponents to come, but the only one who ignites my curiosity, and for that matter, intrigues us collectively, is that arrogant girl from Twelve, who somehow upstaged us in performance and skill, according to the fickle judges. While she doesn't appear extensively riveting to me, she has to be the one to beat. I have a moderate aggression and disdain for her, sure, but not the blistering hatred the others are possessed with; Cato in particular has this frenzied, fervent detest about him whenever she is mentioned, a blistering despise. However, it's plausible his seething anger only stems from his inability to accede to inferiority. Raised as the Capitol's lapdogs, we're all  
reared as winners.  
Nevertheless, I feel no threat radiating from the District 12 girl, or her unassuming partner, now that we've been provided another advantage to add to our abundant list. Go on, I think with a wry grin. Let the games begin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! So this is chapter 2, and in my opinion, it is much better than chapter 1, so thankyou for sticking with us through it! Again, disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or its characters, I can only dream. :p x) All of the Clove/Marvel parts are written by my little sister, who you can find at pkat369 :D I write Averi, Cato, and Glimmer :) Please review and enjoy!**

Ch. 2- Murder of District 8 and 4  
Cato

It seems that, whereas our hunting trip that I initiated before dawn was proving fruitless, our pack has finally stumbled on a piece of moronic luck. As Marvel protested hunting the tributes last night, and all of the girls insisted rest was necessity, our competition has dispersed throughout the vast arena, inconveniencing us; yet it seems obvious not everyone is so quick-witted here. I could detect the stale, musty odor of burning hickory wood the second it was snatched up by the crisp pre-morning breeze, and no one needed to follow the lingering scent of soot for long before the soft glowing embers illuminated easy prey. A truculent smile hinted at the corners of my lips and I carefully beckoned over the lot of them with a silent gesture. Everyone had been slightly dour since last night, when Marvel and I bickered over my suggestion, but the assurance of an entertaining yet not challenging kill sparked enthusiasm in their weary eyes, and they flocked  
towards me in earnest.  
Glimmer had to stifle her snickering at the girl's idiotic behavior. "Ooh, Cato, can I have this one? Pretty please?" she pleaded with a pout, batting her thickly done up lashes.  
"Oh, next time," I teased, tenderly brushing a lock of glistening golden hair behind her ear and returning a mocking pout. She swatted lightly at my hand and chuckled. "The next one is open game. I only want this one, now that I've seen her, and District Twelve."  
At that moment, conveniently enough, Peeta Mellark surged through a thicket of trees, clumsily stumbling through the underbrush. Because of his difficulty navigating forests stealthily, or much at all, we had adjusted to his late and cacophonous entrances, and simply produced room for him; Averi sighed impatiently, even though the rest of us ignored the blond boy. Regardless of the commotion he caused, the girl bundled up next to the dying coals of her pathetic fire seemed blissfully oblivious somehow.  
"Just because you want her doesn't mean someone can't persuade you out of it with, say, compromise," Clove inserted with a grin, her dark eyes shrouded yet interceptive in the dim lighting. I had witnessed Clove as being, in general, so eerily reserved, with the occasional catty comment, and I had seen her as a ruthless murderer as well; it's fair to say I had even seen the bold and joyous Clove that was projected to the Capitol cameras. Yet I had never before seen her so... convincing? It nearly sent shudders down my spine, and all I could do in response was beam and quirk an eyebrow.  
"Come on, can we get started?" Marvel whispered, nudging in the direction of the campfire. "She'll be able to see us soon enough if it keeps lightening up. Hey, Cato, if you kill her can I start it?"  
My accomplice was itching to start, and at the smallest affirmative nod, he bolted through the clumps of foliage, quiet as curtains rustling in the wind. We all followed eagerly, prowling silently through the cloak of woods, and surrounded the camp in seconds.  
"Surprise," Marvel muttered gruffly; his suffocating grasp encircled her wrists before she could slurp up enough air for a scream. With a solid yank, he wrenched her from her position and hurled her sideways as she writhed and contorted in midair; a loud crack resounded the instant before he freed her from his grip, and she slammed heavily against the ground, rolling through a carpet of decomposing leaves. A trickle of blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth, and it appeared she'd been biting her tongue to prevent an earshattering squeal; her face was crumpled into a mask of agony, and the distorted, swollen joints of her wrists suggested they'd just been broken.  
Before I have the opportunity to emerge from the coat of darkness, District 4 sprints towards her, aligning the toe of her boot with the soft area beneath the girl's chin, delivering a bone-cracking kick to that region, and holding her up by the neck against a steady oak with her powerful foot. Averi, looking sinister but unamused, glowered as the weak tribute asphyxiated under her heel; the girl's rear was inches above the ground, and she flailed as she tried to scramble free, struggling for breath.  
Clove and Glimmer materialized on either side of the choking, wretching girl. Clove pulls a cruel, curved blade from her collection and presses the silvery tip of it to the corner of the girl's mouth.  
"Now that's not a very pretty face, now is it?" she asks Glimmer, her tone harsh and unforgiving.  
As Clove carves a permanent grin into her flesh, blood cascades in rivulets down her chin and drips onto her mussed shirt, the luscious wine of my partner's victory. Averi has budged her foot slightly, so that the girl can breathe but not escape. Clove twists her lips at an angle, musing over something as she toys with the tribute's lips, the skin slick, bloodied, and too loose.  
"That's better," she proposed, which received a cacophony of laughter from the rest of us. "Hm, do you think it would look better if I cut her lips off?"  
A sudden squeak burst from Clove's mouth as she revolved back to face the girl, who had rebelliously bit down on Clove's fingers, her blunt teeth threatening to tear the skin. Clove ripped her hand from the wounded mouth, scowling.  
"Bitch!" she gawked, and plunged the knife into the injured crevice of a mouth as the girl emitted a shrill, mottled screech. It was impossible to discern which part of her anatomy the blade had lodged itself into as it intruded, as it was clearly nowhere lethal, but the new puncture brought about a wave of frothy blood transcending from her mouth. The girl gagged and coughed on the knife, sputtering and drooling blood as her muscles rioted, and Clove hastily withdrew it, disgusted.  
"Cato likes open game," Glimmer hinted, "but we can't have you scurrying off..."  
With an empowering leap, Glimmer pounced in the air and landed on the girl's knees as if she was playing carelessly on a trampoline, cackling like a hyena. The splintering sound that echoed around declared that her knees were broken instantaneously as well, and anyone could tell by looking at her revolting legs even through the pants.  
"Let her go, Averi," Clove commented. "She's Cato's."  
The girl instantly attempted flight when she was released, but she didn't manage much distance as a result of her broken wrists and knees. She took to groveling and whining immediately afterwards, wailing for her life, until I appeared. The instant she met my gaze as I trudged into her field of vision, she seemed to be under the realization resistance was futile. And she was right, she was technically already dead. For an instant I hesitated and scanned her whimpering features, her hunched frame, her bulging, purplish wrists, bruised as if smeared with ink, quaking delicately. Then, wordlessly, my arm shot forward and my gleaming sword lodged itself in her faltering heart. A single, echoing scream pierced the air and faded just as quickly; as her eyelids drooped lethargically, I wriggled the blade free and turned to face my gaping allies.  
"That was it? You stuck her in the heart?" Glimmer ranted in dissent. "That's all?"  
"Really?" Clove erupted, her sadistic appetite understandably unsatisfied. "Aren't you supposed to be some 'master of murder' or something?"  
"Let me explain," I retort, waving off the girls' disapproving banter. "You see, a creature that idiotic doesn't deserve a death so complex. Her blood wouldn't be worth the effort to shed it. I only did what was appropriate. Now, when I get ahold of Twelve, someone who would be exquisite to slaughter, that's a different story."  
"Yeah, I gather that, Cato," Averi snaps, snarling at me accusingly, fury glinting in her dark eyes. "You certainly are the master of murder, aren't you?" A knot roils within my stomach, and I feel irregularly cagey, unnerved by her unsaid threat.  
Everyone else reluctantly buys into my charade, into the concept of killing as a professional philosophy, grumbling coherent assent. Marvel even slaps me a congratulatory high five, as if he comprehends the nonsense I just spewed. While I spoke my honest, legitamite opinions, I'm startled that any of them would be gullible enough to believe it as if I'm ingenious. All of us begin to trek into the forest once more, after a hasty and gainless search through her belongings, and the mood starts to lift slightly.  
Marvel parades at the head of our troop, raising his chin magnificently in a sense of success, and he is followed shortly by Averi and the stocky boy from Twelve; Glimmer and Clove stride slower to hang back and converse with me.  
"Twelve down and eleven to go!" I announce, which summons a supportive round of applause.  
"Can you believe that?" Glimmer snorted, mimicking the girl's tone. "'Please don't kill me!'. Ha, absolutely pathetic! I'm glad there are cameras in here, that was priceless."  
While I feel Clove has some inner animosity against the girl, she agrees amicably. "Seriously, how stupid do you have to be? She was practically inviting us with that fire."  
"I don't mind invitations," I muse; I don't consider myself to be haughty or arrogant, but who could remain so level-headed after such an easily-attained victory? We generally feel more cautious, stalking through the woods with swift, painstaking steps, navigating the maze for any lurking prey; now, we cheer and laugh openly, challenged by the vast expanse but too giddy from a fine kill to dwell on it.  
Glimmer clings to my arm and latches onto me, smirking and bursting into fits of giggles, and Clove paces beyond us slightly, still grinning, her dark ponytail swishing back and forth like a fluid pendulum. Suddenly, Averi swivels around in front of us, ceasing our progress and jabbing a finger at me.  
"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?" she inserts, and I feel instantly hostile towards her, abashed by the fact she dares doubt me. I've been doing nothing but this my entire life, who does this vile girl, this thriving source of my paranoia, think she is to interrogate that?  
The rest of the group begins to process the information and reinforce Averi's complaint, so I try to reassure the group.  
"She's dead. I stuck her myself," I claim bluntly.  
Not everyone believes this statement though, and a spat breaks out almost instantly; while most deriding comments are directed at me, the girls seem to be snapping at each other as well as the spat swells to a shouting volume.  
"We're wasting time!" Peeta suddenly splitting the argument, seemingly irked. "I'll go finish her and lets move on!"  
I hear a discrete rustling in the shielded branches far above us, but I pass it off as an animal, too occupied with scowling at the back of his head as he plods off. "Go on then, Lover Boy. See for yourself."  
Once out of earshot, Glimmer faces me, grimacing, but I can tell her detest isn't hovering around my failed kill. She's disgusted by my mercy. "Why don't we just kill him now? He's useless," she grumbles.  
"He's our best chance of finding her. Plus, he's pretty handy with a knife," I explain, but my focus is not centered on the fretting blonde; Averi is piercing me with that starved, furious glare once more, and I'm impacted with the realization that she needs to go. And there's only one person in this group I can truly confide in, whom with my alliance isn't simply an unreliable convenience.  
"I need to talk to you," I hiss, leaning in closely over her shoulder and breathing against her neck; I feel her muscles go taut as I startle her, sense the arteries in her neck pulsating quicker.  
Wordlessly, I clasp her forearm and drag her with me into a straggling grove of trees.

Clove

"What?" I try to pull myself free, but his grip is too intense. "What is it, Cato?"  
"I need to talk to you," he begins.  
"Then talk to me!" My voice cracks, causing roses to bloom on my cheeks. He doesn't turn.  
I was fed up with him commanding us around, but this is just pissing me off. I wont accept it.  
I dig my nails into his hand, and he releases me. Only for a moment though. As I step back to ask about his actions, his hands grab my shoulders with a hold that is painful to even think about. I let out a small cry of defeat. He forces me closer, our noses almost touching. I feel his steady breathing, his pounding heartbeat, his eerie, yet powerful presence. My feet aren't touching the ground anymore. I whisper,"Talk to me."  
To my suprise, he releases me. Well not entirely, but enough for breathing room.  
"She's already after me, I can't have you after me too." he says shakily. If we weren't in the arena, I would suspect intoxication; he is so uneven. He seems paranoid, in a way.  
"After you? Who? Cato, what are you talking about?"  
"Averi," he says while inhaling stressful amounts of air. "She's after me."  
"Averi? Cato, that's ridiculous." I take another glance at his face, I study the way it urgently begs for my understanding. He seems utterly paranoid. "Why would you think that?"  
"Can't you tell? She's always giving hints, with every word she says. But I'm the only one who hears it and understands what she means. I thought you'd understand too."  
He trusts me.  
"I do, I mean I will if you explain more." I tell him, trying to be as comforting as possible. "You said she gave off hints, what did you mean by that? What hints?"  
"Like when she said I was the 'master of killing', you know that wasn't a compliment."  
I nod. "I suppose, but-" He cuts me off and continues.  
"And she keeps giving me looks."  
"Looks?"  
"Yes, looks. Clove, she's going to kill me,"  
"Do you know why she's acting like this?"  
"I think it's because I killed her District partner, at the Cornucopia. You remember, right? The scrawny one with big hair?"  
"Yeah, I remember him." I say nodding. Cato pants and I see a sheen of sweat shining on the lean muscle his shirt exposes. For some reason I feel attracted to him. I actually think I have been this whole time, but I just wouldn't admit it to myself. And now I refuse to. We're in a death match, I cant feel that way about him if I'm going to be victor. And I promised myself I would be. "But why would she care? Averi doesn't care about anyone-"  
"Because she has no one left to care about." he says, finishing my thought. "How would you feel if your Distrtict partner died? Was killed by your ally?"  
"Cato, stop. You're not going to do this right now."  
"What am I going to do?" he asks.  
"You're going back camp, to tell them why you dragged me into the forest, and I am going to think of ways to get rid of Averi."  
He has a confused, yet still cocky expression on his face. It asks, why?  
"What is it?"  
"Nothing. I just don't get it, I mean, I thought you wouldn't care."  
"Well I do." I say matter-of-factly. "District partner loyalty, right?"  
He nods, looking noble and strong. "Clove, do think she could kill me? If she caught me off-guard?"  
"No," I answer without second thought. "I wouldn't let that happen."  
"Okay." he states, his District accent showing through.  
This is the moment in which I finally realize, Cato is just human. And I am too.

Averi

The last thing I expect to burst from Cato's mouth, of all things, is a brash suggestion that we split up into groups in order to hunt; after all, we finally navigated our way back to camp after straggling through the woods all night, and only gathered a few kills, none particularly entertaining, and we haven't been here long either. Yet this is precisely what he says. However, due to Marvel's fierce disagreement, we wait until morning.

Sunshine leaked through the lush canopy of the forest above, speckling our bodies with crystalline light. I glance over at Cato; his expression firm, and the streaks of light and contrasting shadows striped his face like a tiger. Something wasn't quite right about the situation, about his heavily guarded emotion. Nevertheless, I couldn't resist feeling triumphant about his current state, knowing that I could push him to the extent of numbness.  
Of course I would try to unnerve him, threaten him, after what he'd done; and it was all too easy to push him over the edge. Controlled, he wouldn't be dangerous any longer. It was all his fault anyways, for killing the boy.  
I had known him briefly, although he had been my acquaintance for the duration of my entire life. As the best friend of Faune, my little sister, he was constantly at my home, and without paying much attention to it until the reaping, I realized I had absentmindedly watched him grow up.  
And, while I could proclaim to no actual connections to the boy, I promised my sister and myself to keep him alive as long as possible. A will that extended beyond partner loyalty.  
Soothing him with petty reassurances on the train, I swore to him that I would protect him. That he would be safe in the prestigious Career pack. A sick joke, as it were.  
The short, slender boy with the curly tuft of fair, red-tinted hair was gone. Should it not be expected that I would seek vengeance for his death? It wasn't for me alone, yet for my sister, who had lost her friend. I could feel my detest for Cato boiling in my blood, and I could also feel myself gnashing my teeth together as I glowered. I compose myself quickly to appear nonchalant, but for a mysterious cause the District 2 tributes spontaneously halted. I lifted a cautious eyebrow.  
"Well?" I snapped irritably; it was too easy to pass my irked behavior off as annoyance at yet another hunting trip, but in all honesty, the pair's abrupt behavior was unraveling me a little. "Aren't we hunting?" I instinctively feel Clove's presence receding from me slightly.  
"Don't play stupid, Averi." Cato scowled, and for the first time, his eyes glinted with the same fury mine did. However, this has the form of anger that developed when fear was all you had left. Something about this pained, desperate look stressing his features wasn't right. With the shards of light glistening in his eyes the way they did, he looked more like a crazed victim than the ruthless killer he projected himself as. But I knew better than to assume that.

I impulsively cackled, but it burst out in a strange manner. "Me? Playing stupid? I'm not the one acting like it never happened. You and I both know what's wrong, Cato."

Cato opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he had the opportunity to inhale.

"You promised him," I voiced gravely, even though my tone became so aggressive that it eventually rises an octave. "You promised him he'd be safe, in the training center. He trusted you, and you killed him!"

Cato glances away, dejected and ashamed, but manages to counter a response. "I know what it looks like, but I did it for all of us, Averi. Do you know what kind of jeopardy he could've put all of us in? I was just putting him out of his misery before the real battle began. That lightweight wouldn't have lasted, he knew it anyways. At least I gave him a quick death." His voice is steady, and his convincing, crystal blue eyes penetrate mine.

His claims are relatively sincere enough, but I can't place my finger on what in particular is off about the situation. Regardless, I reply, "I don't buy that for a second. Who the hell do you think you are? You murdered an innocent child, your own ally! And maybe, you'll die for it in the end. You can't act like that's a ridiculous notion."

The direct threat triggers something within him and his expression becomes grim, shadowed by a foreign thought. "I'm sorry I killed him, Averi. I'm sorry…" he trails off slowly. Then his fingers ever so lightly caress the hilt of his sword, lethargic in motion. And it hits me.

Cato never intended to talk to me about this issue. This was his dire purpose all along. Somehow, he managed to fool me with his sly deceit, persuaded me that he had true concern over this issue, when all he had desired was the flawless chance to isolate me in the woods, vulnerable and defenseless, and lop off my head, just like with my district partner. And I played right into the trap moronically. Why else would Clove be here if he wished to converse alone? She was his back-up.

How could I have been so stupid? Threatening vicious fighters like Cato as if I posed an actual threat, and expecting them not to retaliate. I should've assumed that he would snap and take action eventually. Although I was raised well as a Career tribute in District 4, we're nothing like Districts 1 or 2; we train not for the chance to claim the reward, but to keep ourselves alive, and we volunteer for the sake of younger, inexperienced fighters, not for raw glory alone. In District 2, the children are bred to kill and born to die. That is the sole purpose and mentality that suffocates that district, and by challenging that, I had signed my death warrant I was a career, not remarkable or untouchable; although I originated from a wealthy, trained district, but I was still an underdog in comparison. The others' lives are worse than worthless to machines like them, to innocent children corrupted by society. And now surrounded by the tributes from Two, I was about to die.

Cato's grip tightens on his sword upon seeing recognition flicker behind my eyes, and his face crumples into a mask of despise; however, I'm not succumbing without a fight. Reflexively, I draw my dagger with a clammy palm and, after assessing and calculating who the larger threat is, hurl it towards Cato and bolt off into the brush on a through the air and a groan of protest as it plunges into Cato's thigh. Sprinting onwards, it takes me an instant to process that I made the incorrect decision. Cato is clearly the more perilous, yet Clove is unexpectedly swift and nimble, and is upon me in seconds, although she is so much smaller in stature. A whipping sound resounds next to me, and a stinging sensation pierces the tip of my ear; the knife, which barely missed, has embedded itself in the rough bark of the trunk directly before me, and a lukewarm trickle of blood drips into my ear. I peer over my shoulder as she gracefully lunges from the underbrush, and I yank the blade free from the wood the instant I feel the impact of her hands on my back.

The smaller girl pounces on me and knocks me to the ground, the oxygen flooding from my lungs as I slam against the gnarled blanket of tree roots and decomposing leaves. We scramble in a tussle for a moment until I regain my bearings, and then I lash out, knife in hand, and open a shallow slit along her cheek as her face whips to the side from the blow. Slashing out repeatedly, I tried to find purchase once more, adrenaline coursing through my veins, yet she craftily dodged all of my attempts. She's too fast. Suddenly, she bats at my hand and slaps the knife from my grip. Clove's other fist arcs upwards and collides with my jaw, and a solid crack resonates through the stagnant air around us. The pain is instantaneous. I double over, clutching my face where the bruise is already beginning to blossom, and sneer up at her, my eyes narrowed to flustered slits.

She looks disgustingly satisfied as she hovers above me, in preparation to pummel me. Spontaneously, I jolt forward and intertwine my arms around her knees, shoving her to the ground. She emits a shrill shriek as she falls, and a minute or so of malicious fighting ensues. Dirty fingernails scraping at flesh, handfuls of hair ripped out, salty blood and sweat dripping into our eyes. Then my hands close on her throat and the struggle is over.

Hand to hand combat isn't in Clove's favor, and she knows it. She gulps and gasps for precious air, her face blanched as my constricting grip tightens. I'm on my knees leaning over her rioting body, and her back is pressed against the base of the tree; although her rear is planted on the ground, my grasp is too powerful for her to keep her breath. Her legs flail out beneath me, kicking up piles of leaves, but it is futile resistance.

Her lips are so alabaster that they almost look bluish, and they croak something inaudible; she mouths the name, "Cato", but the only thing that escapes her lips is a low, breathless whine. No one will come for her now. I can practically see each swollen, oxygen-deprived vein popping out in her face as she chokes, and I'm about to grin when I see her hand grappling for something half buried in leafy decay. It's the knife.

Suddenly panicked, I bullet her in the stomach with my knee to quell her, and reach for the hilt. Clasping the knife in one hand, and her throat in the other, I shakily rise to my feet, dragging the lurching girl up the trunk until her feet dangle precariously off of the ground. Before I could commence, however, I heard Cato vault into the clearing.

Twisting sideways, I smack Cato in the face with the blunt end of the knife and swivel on my heels as he staggers back; he had been charging, but my attack had left him bewildered. I sprinted for him, but he was a step ahead. Flattening his hand against my chest, he forces me to the ground with a hard push and wrenches the blade from my grasp. I crawl away frantically, sucking in sharp breaths, and glance over my shoulder the instant he throws the knife. Splaying my hands on the ground and dropping, I roll quickly out of the way and lurch to my feet; startlingly, I realized what I needed to do. My dagger was secured in his belt, still drenched in Cato's blood, and if I obtained it, I would have a chance.

I peered over at Clove, searching for any eminent threat, but she had collapsed onto her hands and knees, and was still retching and heaving for air. I pummel into Cato, thrashing my limbs wildly, and my spontaneous action catches him off guard as he attempts to fend off my crazed motions. This is just the effect I want. Unfortunately, he realizes this as well, the instant I yank the coveted dagger from his belt. Scowling with contempt, he flings me off of him by gripping my face with his hand and outstretching his arm; I'm hurled backwards in space, the iron vice of his fingers receding, and his chapped palm crushes my nose as he releases my head. The revolting sound of cartilage breaking registers, and I can taste the rusty, salty blood transcending across my lips. He must've broken my nose, but that's the least of my troubles now.

I reflect the blow of Cato's sword with the dagger, and the congealed, caked-on blood splintered off of the dagger, half-dried. Leaning in to attack Cato, I unintentionally begin a struggle of raw wits. A thin sheen of sweat cloaks us both, and the beads of sweat cooking in the sun make the whole battle steaming and muggy. Our weapons sling and ricochet off one another, hitting each other with loud, metallic clanks more often than they sink into flesh. After a moment or two of this, Cato begins to cave, weakening on his vigor, his retaliations becoming frail. Finally, I am wearing him down. I'm just basking in this revelation when I feel it.

A sharp prick punctures my neck, and a stinging sensation numbly begins as I sense two warm weights press against me, one reaching across my chest and fastening onto my shoulder, the other securing my head. The sting morphs into a hollow, searing ache as the blade buries itself in my neck, and it comes to my attention that Clove's arms are restricting me. But it's too late.

In a rapid motion she slits my throat and tosses me to the ground. My hands automatically grapple to my neck as I plummet with a heavy thud, and all I notice first is the blood. Slathered all across my throat and chest, pouring down the back of my throat and gagging me, plastering my hands to the wound. The reeking crimson liquid smothers everything, and the air is permeated with the stench of iron. Gargling and coughing, I drown in my own blood as I fight to breathe. Stirred with foam, it splatters from my lips as I shudder, convulsing, and I know it's too late. I'm going to die.

Then it strikes me that maybe, faced with the Careers as opponents, I never really had a chance. I was born with a chance as a victor, raised for slaughter. I had never reveled in the most prominent aspects of life, and now I never would. I wasn't dying; I had never really been alive.

Through blurred, filmy eyes I watch Cato's ardent facial reaction as he reaches for Clove; before he gets to her, however, I must provoke him. One last remark.

"You're going to die sooner or later, Cato." I croak, my voice distorted as the blood sloshes through my throat. A scarlet-stained grin splits my desperate face. "You're as good as dead now."

Clearly astonished by his own fear of mortality, Cato snarls, marches toward me, and brings the heel of his boot down on my head. I hear the sickening crunch of my skull and a curtain of blood cascades over my face. And all I detect is the pain. Agonizing, anguishing, blinding. I need to writhe, to screech, but I'm incapacitated. Another powerful stomp, accompanied by another sloppy crack and my head is split open, burning in a tortuous inferno. Yet the foot descends again and again, stomping my brains into the sopping leaves, and I begin to convince myself there is no worse pain contemplatable in this world.

Then my cannon fires.

Cato

"Cato!" Clove shrieks, her voice so shrill and panicked that it's nearly a squeal. "Cato, stop!"

It is this voice that restores my senses, and I blink furiously as her strong, slender arms drag me away from Averi's mutilated body. I scope out my hooded surroundings, my breathing shivery, and the impact of what I have done sinks in.

"Clove…" I gasp, my mouth parched; it escapes my lips as a querulous whisper, the heated buzz fading from my head, and for the first time, I recognize my own weakness.

For an instant, I was gone. Yet I cannot think of my fury, my fear, my dangerous instability at the moment. All I can ponder on is that Clove brought me back. This is the single coherent thought I can form in this instant, and I lunge forwards before I can stop myself; cup my grazed hand against her bruised, soft cheek, and drag her into an intense and spontaneous kiss. My mind doesn't process exactly what is occurring, but I realize that she doesn't pull away. On the contrary, she responds with an unforeseen ferocity, and leans up to bite and suck my lips, intertwining her arms around my neck; she is so fervent, so shockingly vicious that I can't resist her. All of our passion, our trust, our indefinite attraction fuels my desire as we press against one another. Then, it vanishes before I can revel in it, and Clove slips from my embrace, eyeing my warily. I try in vain to elucidate to myself what is occurring, but it is all an adrenaline-rich blur.

Although Clove's face is marred by pencil-thin scratches and half-obscured by a filmy layer of dirt and blood, her eyes on alert and lucid, gleaming like obsidian. Her whisper drops so it can almost be considered a growl, as she slowly says, "No one can know." Whether she means it about Averi's death or the kiss, I do not know.

Swallowing audibly, I nod my head weakly, in a daze. My head revolves phlegmatically to face Averi's grisly body, and I flinch slightly at the sight of my unconscious rage. Yet I cannot allow myself to accept such a notion. I cannot be insane, or a monster. While I was possessed by the paranoia before, it ebbs away now, especially in Clove's secure presence, with the instinctive threat to me dead and gone. Grimacing, I wipe my bloodied boots in the grass. I'm fine now. Glancing up, my confused, not entirely-decipherable gaze meets Clove's stern, yet unsure one.

"We had split up to track tributes and the boy from 10 did away with Averi before we could stop him. He beat us up bad though, so we mention considering him as a new target. We couldn't help her in time. Right?" I declare, hoping my district partner will catch on.

"Right." Clove agrees, following my authority with sincerity, but it doesn't refrain from adding, "They're not going to believe us, you know."

"Maybe, but they'll have to," I reply off handedly, "that or we'll have to take them out too. We could take them, you and I."

I throw in an overly confident smile, although it's half-hearted, but she gives an icy, skeptical glare.

"Really? You'd be willing to take out Glimmer?"

Something about the heightened tone in her voice unnerves me, as if she's suggesting something away between us. I lift an eyebrow nonchalantly and scoff. Part of me, of course cannot help being attracted to Glimmer, and Clove must realize this; however, this appealing attraction does not compare to this new temptation for Clove. To be perfectly honest, I couldn't claim to exactly what Clove and I have; all I know is that some thing tantalizing about it makes me feel alive. And that is all I yearn for.

"Of course I could, when it came down to it."

She laughs lightly, but something screams suspicion in her voice. I briefly recognize why she doesn't approve of us tag-teaming, even against our deceptive allies. Only one of us can win; there's no denying it, or pretending that a miracle will emerge.

"We'd better head back to camp," she mumbles, gesturing towards the scraggled thicket of trees we came through. Then, as she begins to surge steadily through the undergrowth, she adds, "It's a shame about Averi."

I grunt in assent and track Clove's sun-streaked back through the forest, mind sprinting. It was a shame about Averi perhaps, and a damn waste to be considered; but I had to take her out, and I knew I could. I was capable of destroying any of them, enemy or ally, or otherwise, in a heartbeat. However, for the first time, I'm confronted with someone I'm not sure that I could kill if it came down to it.

Clove.


End file.
